Endgame
by Archaeologist
Summary: Xanatos, QuiGon's fallen Padawan, was not about to take a nosedive into the acid pools on Telos in JA 8 and die just to get back at QuiGon Jinn. It wasn't in his character. Instead, Xan was about to find out just how sweet revenge can be.


**Endgame  
****Genre:** drama, definitely AU; PG-13  
**Characters:** Qui-Gon Jinn, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Xanatos  
**Timeframe:** Jedi Apprentice books; end of book 8, The Day of Reckoning by Jude Watson – Obi-Wan is 14.  
**Summary:** It is said that revenge is sweet. Xanatos is about to find out.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not Qui-Gon Jinn or Xanatos or Obi-Wan Kenobi or the Star Wars concept; Lucasfilm and Jude Watson do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No credits have changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Notes: **This was inspired by something a friend of mine and I had discussed a long, long time ago, namely that Xanatos, Qui-Gon's fallen Padawan, would never take a nose-dive into the acid pools on Telos and die just to get back at Qui-Gon Jinn. It wasn't in his character to do so…. Thanks to Layren for asking the right questions and to the goddess of all things Xanatos, obiew, for help with the ending.

* * *

_None are so hopelessly enslaved as those who falsely believe they are free. -- Goethe _

"Pathetic, absolutely pathetic."

The sulfurous wind caught the contempt, sweeping it upward into the burnt-yellow air, scattering the words like caustic dust before a gathering storm.

The speaker merely stood there, fine synthsilk cape rustling as he shifted his weight in impatience, watching his enemies approach. Hard sapphire eyes, icy blue yet breathtakingly beautiful, the color of a clear Telosian sky, vivid, startling and glacial, narrowed as he took in the surroundings.

Perfect, the place was perfect.

Before him lay sharp slabs of barren rock, black sludgy murk of acid pools, and the curling heat of wounded earth - a burbling desecration of land and sky and poisoned water. Zhu'zosk trees lay bleach-boned along the trail. Everywhere was the scattered stench of dead carcasses, suffocated by the blasphemy of uncaring commerce. The smell was almost overwhelming. And, far off in the distance, the smoky noise of mining destruction was a rumble of broken shards and pain.

Nothing moved, nothing was alive except for Xanatos duCrion and, down below on the rocky slopes, the Jedi fools trying so desperately to capture him.

"Come on, Master. You can do better than that." Chuckling deep in his throat, he watched with growing excitement as his old nemesis, Qui-Gon Jinn, and that pathetic Padawan whelp of his scampered over mounds of debris, past polluted geysers and fuming pools of acid, edging toward their deaths.

Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

It had seemed an eternity ago but he had loved Jinn once - as almost-father, as mentor, as friend. And when it had all gone sour, when that Jedi rshhak had murdered his true father, Crion duCrion, over a few paltry problems with the Telosian Treasury, Xanatos realized that Jinn had been lying to him for years. There had been no love, no acceptance, no bond between them, only an endless need to control Xan's every thought, to play puppet-master with his mind and spirit and heart.

In that moment, the son's love he had offered to Jinn turned to black hatred and an ever-growing lust for revenge.

But the universe moved in inexplicable and subtle ways. Once free of the stifling rules and petty concerns of the Jedi, he had learned to take what was rightfully his. The trite compassion and selfless acts that had contaminated the mind-drones of the Order no longer were of any concern to Xanatos duCrion. So instead of losing everything, he had gained wealth beyond dreaming and the freedom to do what he wanted when he wanted.

And it cost him very little. A few paltry lives here, a bit of contaminated water there - these were nothing to him, less than nothing. Instead, the destructive path of loss and death had only brought him more money and more control and, above all, power. Power over the lives of the Telosian people. He could almost drink in the blood-hot nectar of it all.

A bleak scrabble of rock sliding down the hillside brought him back to the matter at hand.

A few meters below him, that naive pup with the sea-green eyes was looking straight at him. Xanatos smiled down at the boy, a sunny welcoming grin that apparently only confused the little Jedi fool. He watched as the kid halted and stared at him, blinking quickly, a deep frown scrabbling across the whelp's face before he turned away and shouted down toward Jinn.

But much as he strained to hear, the wind picked up suddenly, the hissing grit and pungent fumes catching in his throat, and carried the pup's question away. He could still feel the fear and confusion spiraling out from the boy's Force-aura but Xan always appreciated hearing the words. Words, after all, could cut more deeply into a soul than any vibroblade no matter what form they took.

Xan shrugged off the thought. After all, it was of no matter. Both Jedi would soon be dead and any words spoken now were irrelevant. And it was now time to play the game.

Climbing onto a spit of rock, his dark-blue cape fluttering in the breeze like raptor's wings, he spread his arms wide and boomed out, "Welcome to the Sacred Pools of Telos."

All astonishment, Jinn and the young Kenobi both stopped their scrabble up the hillock and stared at him, watching warily. Xan saw his old Master waving the child back with a simple movement of fingertips and then he started climbing again, the Learner in his wake. It was clear that Jinn was trying to protect the boy but it wouldn't be enough, not if he had anything to say about it.

With a grating laugh and a simple bow towards stupidity, he mocked, "You are quite the tourist, first the gaming center and now rock climbing in the park. Where to next, I wonder? The pleasure houses on Ryloth, perhaps? I hear, for the right price, they will have sex with anyone, even you."

The barb struck home as Jinn's eyes gleamed hurt but it did not stop the Jedi team from advancing slowly, carefully, looking for a trap.

"And you've brought your little pet with you. How nice." Xan knew how much the old man cared for the whelp. It was a weakness that could be exploited with just the right push. And he was in the mood for pushing.

Stopping a short distance away, Jinn stood tall, an avenging pit-devil of Telosian legend, wild hair askew, frowning concern and determination. Two steps back, Kenobi waited patiently for his Master's instructions, "Xanatos, you are under arrest."

Sapphire eyes dancing, he barked laughter back down the slope, "Qui-Gon, please. Is this how our reunion is going to be? Have you no words of greeting for your old Padawan, no pleas for me to return to the Light?"

From behind Qui-Gon, Xan could see a curling swell of smoke and stink that warned of coming geysers. His old Master did not look back - he had had years of reading the currents of the Living Force and could tell that danger was approaching but not yet there.

But the foolish Learner was less adept, naive in the ways of the galaxy. The kid turned away, shifting uneasily, his eyes looking around for the source of his disquiet. Idiotic child. Didn't he understand that his true enemy was not the land rumbling beneath his feet but the man even now watching him with amused anticipation? It was almost too easy.

But Jinn was not to be distracted. His voice was firm, emotionless, "If you come quietly, you will receive a fair trial."

"Fair trial... oh, Qui-Gon you wound me. Lying already and in front of your worthless trainee no less. And after all we have been together." Xan stepped back a bit, easing away from the hill, trying to draw his enemies up the slope, to his trap of stone and heat and death.

Like a nerf being led to the slaughter, Jinn and the kid began to scramble through the broken rock, towards Xan. "The Jedi Order will see that you receive justice for your actions. Now stand down. I don't want you to be hurt."

Xanatos stopped on the flat area, a few steps from a large bubbling pool. Beyond, the yellow-thick haze hung above the roiling water, the tatters of wind currents blowing flags of acidic stench into the air. Bleached branches of rotten trees laced the edge of the basin. And the ground shivered with geysers yet unborn.

The place sang of death.

And Xan was beginning to tire of this game, of the untruths that Qui-Gon persisted in vomiting out, of the warmer memories that were beginning to emerge as he stared at his old Master. Sarcastic and deliberately cruel, trying to goad the Jedi into a mistake, Xan shouted back, "Qui-Gon, another lie and so soon. You know that you are not setting a very good example for young Oafy-wan here."

But there was only silence as the boy and the old fool finally reached the lip of the hillock. Xanatos watched as Jinn sent the pup hurrying to outflank him. Both Jedi were centered, the calm waves of the Force surrounding them like shields of light. Xan knew better. The Force may be with those two but it was not over yet.

Jinn was moving again, taking one cautious step after another toward him. With a gentleness Xan had not heard in a very long time, Qui-Gon said, "Xani, if there is any honor left in you..."

With the speed of a supernova, the memories of the last time Qui-Gon had used that name drove Xan into sunfire rage. "Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that again."

Pushing down the white-knuckled fury, he drew in one long breath, calming his body, readying himself for the fight ahead. He knew that anger would only lead to mistakes and he was not going to lose now. Shrugging off his cape, he slowly reached for the lightsaber dangling on his belt and pulled it loose.

Pointing the saber handle toward Jinn, he growled out, "It is all you ever do, spout platitudes and pretty words like honor and duty and justice. But we both know what you really want, what you hunger for... revenge."

And while the kid looked uncertain, Jinn only gazed at him with sorrow, "A Jedi does not seek revenge. Justice is..."

But Xan interrupted the speech. He had heard it all before, a dozen times, and he was weary to death of it. "Qui-Gon, can't you be honest for once, even to yourself? You don't want justice. You want to erase your mistake."

Shifting slightly, preparing for the almost-now, Xanatos turned on his lightsaber, the snap-hiss a lyrical buzz of killing energy. "I am your greatest mistake. Because of me, the Jedi now know just what a lying hypocrite you really are."

Waving the blade through the polluted air, his voice rising above the saber-song, Xanatos said, "That is why you are here. To correct the error. To spatter my blood on this black rock. To finish the job you started so long ago when you murdered my father."

"Xan, come back. We..." But the pleas were in vain.

And Xanatos had seen enough. He had waited, arguing with Jinn as a distraction while the boy maneuvered into place. He could tell that they thought to box him in, that the acid pool behind him left him no escape. But they were wrong. He wasn't about to escape. He was about to finally have his revenge.

He spat out, "You fool, I'll never go back. Never." Then stepping forward towards Jinn, he swept his blade up and down through the place where Jinn's chest should have been.

But the two Jedi were now on the move. They had finally realized that Xanatos duCrion was not here to be taken so easily.

With blurring speed, Qui-Gon stepped back, his blue blade high enough to block the cut and he tried to force Xan back toward Kenobi. Xan would have laughed if he had time. The dolts had thought to ensnare him and bring him down.

But Xan was already jumping sideways, nearing the pool's edge, skirting it. Waving one hand, he sent tatters of acidic haze into Jinn's eyes. But even as Qui-Gon used the Force to block most of the fumes, Xan had twisted away and moved left, toward Obi-Wan's position.

Startled, the whelp did the obvious thing and brought his saber up, into guard mode. But Xanatos only smiled. Behind Obi-Wan, the bleached branches littering the rock edge began to chitter, rising and aiming straight the boy's back. Kenobi must have felt the Force's warning because he shifted abruptly and tried to cut through the wealth of sharp thorns and wood, shattering them into smaller pieces. The myriad splinters scattered, some slicing into his skin, and a blossom of blood on his forehead told of larger objects that had gotten past his block. The boy staggered with the deluge and Xan would have pressed the attack but Jinn was closer now, trying to protect his Padawan from danger.

Facing his old Master, Xan cut low, sweeping at Jinn's legs, forcing the older man to jump backwards. And as the boy gathered up his courage and started toward the fight, Xan reached into the Force and flung out his hand. The growl of a small detonator exploding beneath the surface seemed to distract Jinn for a moment but then he shook his head clear and started toward him, a grim look of stony determination crowding the Master's face.

Kenobi cried out and at that instant, behind Jinn, a geyser erupted into a scalding flood of boiling acid. The roar of released vapors hid the grunt of pain as Qui-Gon was bathed in burning liquid, his tunic beginning to smoke. He seemed to shake it off but his face leached hard into suppressed agony as the burns dug deep.

Xan would have laughed at the sight but he had more important things to do. He moved back toward the kid, and swiping his blade back and forth like some addersnake preparing to strike, he connected with the child's pathetic attempts at defense. The sizzle of sabers dueling for control was a sweet confection to Xan's ears. It was all going according to plan.

As the kid stepped backwards, he seemed to gather strength, trying to lure Xanatos away from Jinn, giving his Master time to recoup. But the sapphire-eyed man had expected just that. He smiled as he lifted rock and grit and scattered bone and sent it flying aloft. For one brief moment, the kid seemed confused and then he realized that what goes up must come down. He quickly covered his head as the torrent of cutting debris hit him. He fell, one knee down on the barren rock, his hands covered in blood and dirt. As the pathetic Learner struggled to his feet and tried to move away, Xan could see that one hand hung useless at his side. Unfortunately, it was not the saber hand but no matter. The boy would be irrelevant soon enough.

And so Xan pushed hard, sweeping his blade in an effortless show of strength, slashing through the boy's pitiful defenses. It was in no time at all that Kenobi stumbled backwards and now it was he who was up against the edge of the pool and the soft ground was giving way under his feet.

With a shout of concern, Jinn was suddenly there. His face was blistering and cracked, riverlets of sweat and blood tracking down like tears but he was still a formidable opponent. His blade was raised up, a classic aggressive move that Xan had only seen him use a few times but it was extremely effective.

Back and back, Jinn drove him, closer to the pool's edge. And Xan was fighting for his life. His flurry of stabs and blocking moves were beginning to wear thin but he was not finished just yet.

As he twisted aside, skimming the crumbling shore, panting heavily, he knew he had mere seconds. And his defense was weakening fast. Scuttling along, each snarl of the battling blades a counterpoint to the howl of geysers and biting wind, Xan ignored the noise and looked for the right moment. Because the traps were still in place, waiting.

With a snarl, he flicked his hand once more and a second detonator clambered out, blowing apart some of the pool's edge. Jinn stumbled, then flew up and backwards, away from the shore. His tunics disheveled, his hair greasy with sweat and drying blood, he looked like one of those wretched bottom-feeders from Coruscant but his eyes were cold and calm as the darkness between galaxies. He started forward again, bent on ending this.

But Xan had the same idea. In a flash, he scurried away from his old Master, straight to Kenobi. With a shock of strength, he knocked the startled whelp's blade aside, and grabbed the kid, holding him close.

The boy grunted, his useless hand flaring in pain as he was dragged back, but still he tried to struggle free without success. Tightening his grip around Kenobi's throat, he could sense the boy freeze, could hear the rasp of fearful breath, could feel the trembling pulse. He knew, too, that Obi-Wan was staring at Jinn with pleading eyes. The boy was very young.

"I have your precious little Padawan, Master. A bargaining chip, if you will."

Jinn started to move forward but Xanatos only tightened his grip on the kid. The old man's voice was soft with pain. "I cannot let you go, Xan. You know this."

Smiling widely, Xanatos looked down at the whelp's face and watched Kenobi's eyes grow wide with fear. "Not even for his life?"

Even softer was Jinn's reply and the words held a universe of grief in them. "Not even for that."

Xan spat out, "Oafy-Wan, do you see? You are nothing to the great Qui-Gon Jinn, less than nothing. Tosses you aside like an old tunic. How does that make you feel?" And as he stared at Kenobi, he could see the child's struggle to be brave.

"He..." The boy's words wandered off. It would seem that even now Obi-Wan was trying to put up a good front for Jinn, to be the perfect Padawan. And that made Xanatos more furious.

With his other hand, he grabbed the kid's face and made him look at Jinn. That his old Master was gazing back at the boy with longing and trust in his eyes was almost too much. "Obi-Wan, I know you've tried for so long to please him, to have a single word of praise come your way. But you need to learn the truth. You are just useless, garbage under his feet."

But the kid would not listen, just tried to shake his head and mumbled, "You are wrong."

Jinn rumbled, an almost-whisper begging him for mercy, "Let him go, Xan. He can't help you escape."

Xan began to laugh at the absurdity of it. How could he not... after all those years together, how could he not understand him? "Master, you have no idea. I don't want to escape."

"Then why..."

He hugged the boy tighter to his chest, both arms now surrounding Kenobi like prison bars. He could not let his prize escape just yet. "I've watched you for a while. You treat the kid like dirt but I see it in your eyes. You care about him, apparently more than you ever cared for me. Is he like a son to you? Your legacy to the Jedi? As I never was?" The bitter acid of the pools was nothing to the caustic pain seeping into Xan's voice.

'Xan, let him go." The midnight blue eyes were huge with concern.

Xanatos leaned down and kissed the russet head, a parody of affection. The boy tried to jerk away but he was held fast. "So he does love you after all, young Obi-Wan. Good."

Still hugging him close, one arm maddeningly tight around the boy's throat, his other hand carding through the soft shock of hair, Xanatos stood up and glaring straight at Jinn, he growled out, "Do you have any idea about love, how the loss of it drives men mad, how it fires your blood, how it haunts your every waking moment? And all you can think about is revenge. You cost me the love of a father and for that I can never forgive you."

"Xan, please let him go. Your quarrel is with me, not him." Qui-Gon took one sharp step toward him and Xanatos knew the game was about to end. But he had one more card to play.

"You are right, of course, my Master. My quarrel is with you." His fingers stilled. "So, young one, do you want to be free?"

"Yes..." The boy shivered with the gentle question but Xanatos no longer heard him. It was time for revenge.

'Then be free." And he pushed the child away toward the acid pool.

The boy's joy was sunbright in the Force, stumbling astonishment in the unexpected release but as he turned back toward his Master, that warmth turned into a universe of black-red pain. Looking down, Kenobi began to scream, his chest filled with sheeting fire and a lightsaber's crimson blade. He reached toward the spreading agony, trying to pull it out or plug it up or somehow refill the hole where his heart had been. But the saber's light faded away even as he crumpled to the ground.

Xanatos was sure that Obi-Wan did not hear him say, "And now we are even, Master." Tucking the kid's lightsaber into his belt, he quickly backed up and watched to see what Qui-Gon would do next.

Jinn shouted something, some furious denial and started to run toward Xanatos. But the Telosian was already half way up the slope, far enough away that he could not be easily caught. He was ready for battle but, if his luck held, Jinn would be trapped by his compassion and the love he had for the boy.

And apparently, luck was with him, for as Qui-Gon passed by Obi-Wan, the child's bloody cough seemed to stop his headlong pursuit of his old nemesis.

Qui-Gon hesitated, sending a look of black hatred and the absolute certainty of retribution towards Xan. Then kneeling down, he gently gathered up the boy into his arms, trying hard to hold the obscene pain at bay, to find some way to keep him from slipping away into the Force. He touched the wound over and over, sending energy to try and heal it, to fill it with the Living Force.

But it was futile. Obi-Wan grunted in agony as he stared down at the smoking ruin of his chest, his voice almost gone in that single shriek, eyes streaming bloody tears. He gurgled once, clutching at Jinn's tunic, his mouth trying to form the words but, with his last breath, he exhaled, "Forgive me" and died.

The Force began to gather then, storm-clouds of anger, hatred and denial. Xan could see the bleach-broken branches start to rise and stones and shredded carcasses lifting and circling like tornadic furies. The sulfurous haze darkened and swept in, gathering like macabre dancing veils on a corpse; the polluted pool bubbled in a mad frenzy, adding to the cacophony of sound and fury and guilt.

And under it all, the grief-stricken sounds of a man lost.

Xanatos smiled, enjoying the scene. It had gone much better than planned. But he knew that he had very little time to decide. Try and kill Jinn now, when he was weakest or let the old man stew in the guilt that he would inevitably gather to him. Long, drawn-out guilt if he knew his Master.

And he was weary. The fight had taken more out of him than he had expected. In the end, he might not win. Xanatos duCrion was a realist, above all else and he only bet on sure things.

Standing on the top of the hill, glancing backward for a moment to make sure that his ship was standing prepped and ready for take-off, he looked back down the slope at Jinn.

The man was still huddled there, holding onto the dead boy, the debris of the battle scattered around him. But he was staring back up at Xan, his eyes raw with inconsolable grief. He gently settled the body back to the ground, straightening the child as if tucking him into bed for a nighttime tale of Jedi lore, and then stood there beside the steaming pool.

And Xan watched the blue eyes turn from grief into fury.

Jinn began to move up, his large hand gripping his lightsaber, but stilled when Xan called down, "Don't bother, Master. Not all of my traps have been sprung as yet. If you try to take me now, this whole slope will come crashing down on your head."

He had never heard Jinn so angry. "He did not deserve to die that way."

But Xan just shrugged, "It was your choice to bring him here. Your choice, not mine. He would still be alive but the great Qui-Gon Jinn just had to prove to the galaxy that he was perfect once more, that he was above making another mistake." Smiling down, he could see that Jinn seemed to hunch in at the accusation, that the barbs of guilt were starting to burrow into his skin.

"And I do feel sorry for Obi-Wan. He was trying so hard to be brave, to be the perfect Padawan. What did you do, Master, that he would be that insecure, to try and please you that much?" He waved one manicured hand down toward the child, lying there so peacefully, a living being a few moments ago but now just a corpse. "You rejected him over and over again. You couldn't let your affection for him show. That would not be appropriate, would not be Jedi. But more than that, you could not let him into your heart because, if you lost him, it would tear you apart."

Jinn's furious reply echoed off the barren rock. "What do you know of loss? You have no heart, Xan."

Hard and quick, Xan spat back, "I had a heart once but my Master killed it, the day he murdered my father." He knew that he could not let Jinn make him angry. Mistakes could cost him everything and he wasn't about to lose. Not today.

"So instead you murdered my Padawan." There was a universe of pain in that voice.

Taking a deep breath, drawing in the stink of the place, savoring the moment, Xan drawled out casually, "Yes, seems to balance out, don't you think? And you were always a great one for balance, Master."

Qui-Gon began to move slowly up the slope, toward his position. Jinn's face was a grim death-mask of warrior duty and infinite loss. But it was his eyes that told Xan that it was time to move on. The blue had turned black, space cold, monsters lurking behind the facade. And very dangerous. He was out for blood, at long last.

Xan stepped back, shouting down, "Much as I've enjoyed our little encounter today, Master, it's time to say good-bye. But don't worry. I'll be sure and keep in touch." A predator's smile began to gather on his face, "Watch for me. You never know when I might show up again."

Jinn seemed to be made out of stone, his steps steady on the littered ground. He ignored the crunched bones beneath his feet, the rubble of battle and anger and loss. But it was clear that he no longer cared about life, only vengeance and the death of his enemy.

"One more thing, Master. You might want to have this." And he flung down the small lightsaber that had been Kenobi's only a short time ago. Jinn reached for it, his hand open as the handle flipped into his grasp. And in that distracted moment, Xan pressed down on the small device in his other hand.

With an explosion of blinding heat and noise, the barren rock face was suddenly filling the air, a cacophony of splintered debris and dead carcasses shattering outward. A heartbeat later, dozens of geysers vomited broiling acid, some shooting fountains of burning liquid high into the atmosphere. The sound of it all was overwhelming. A bloodbath of heat and darkness and death as the dust churned into clouds of roiling asphyxiation and wet muck.

It was glorious and so very satisfying.

And better yet, somehow, Qui-Gon Jinn had managed to survive. Xan peered into the darkness and saw the tall old fool standing there, far below, swaying in pain but alive. Barely.

Xan threw back his head and laughed at the irony of it. Apparently, his Master was harder to kill than he had thought. But perhaps it was for the best. Now he would have ample opportunity to torment the old man with guilt and remorse and the knowledge that his actions had led to the death of his beloved Padawan. Revenge and the time to savor it.

And as he turned away and hurried to his ship, Xanatos duCrion was smiling, already plotting his next move. He had learned long ago that it was the journey, not the end, gave the most pleasure.

And revenge, he had found, revenge was the sweetest journey of them all.

The end


End file.
